While Bechukosai is one of the two parshios of the Torah identified with the Tochechah, Rebuke (Ki Savo), it actually begins with the idyllic blessings conferred upon he who follows Hashem’s decrees. The Torah focuses on the Jew who listens, who follows, who acts positively. Sometimes, however, one will veer off the prescribed trajectory. He will, unfortunately, require discipline to help him return and tow the line as everyone else does. The interpretation of teileichu, follow, gives the commentators much food for thought. Rashi interprets the phrase, She’tiheyu ameilim baTorah, to mean by engaging in intense Torah study, with the intention that such study will lead you to observe and perform Hashem’s mitzvos. Yes, it all boils down to toil, effort, attitude towards Torah study. If, however, one is lax in his effort, it will lead to a seven- point digression, a reaction to infamy during which he will eventually deny the very existence of Hashem.
Thus, we are taught that spiritual decline does not begin with blatant, overt rebellion, but through one’s subtle ceasing to exert himself in the arena of Torah study. From that point, the progression is tragically predictable: diminished commitment, neglect of mitzvos, distancing himself from Torah values and its disseminators until he plummets to the nadir of rejection. Is this possible? Does it make sense that the absence of ameilus causes such a difference that it can lead to rejection of the Divine?
Yes, because one who does not toil indicates by his lack of exertion that he does not truly care. Without exertion, he cannot develop an inner attachment. When one toils over a sugya, topic in Talmud, struggling, reviewing and clarifying – the Torah enters and becomes a part of him. It is no longer information stored in the mind, but integrated into one’s psyche, engraved upon his soul. Without exertion, one may accumulate knowledge, even admiration. He may even experience appreciation. Attachment, however, requires toil.
We often, however, overlook an additional nuance in Rashi’s words. Rashi does not say, She’tiheyu ameilim b’limud haTorah; that you should toil in the study of Torah. He says ba’Torah—in Torah itself.
Torah is not merely a discipline for us to master or a body of knowledge for us to accumulate. Torah is a comprehensive framework for life. It governs speech, conduct, relationships, business dealings, thought patterns, and personal aspirations. It is not confined to the beis hamedrash.
Thus, it is entirely possible for a person to exert himself in Torah study and yet not be ameil baTorah. He may labor over a sugya, but, if Torah does not penetrate his character, refine his middos, and guide his daily interactions, then this toil remains compartmentalized.
Ameilus baTorah demands more. It requires exertion in living as a ben Torah. Every avenue of life – from tefillah to interpersonal conduct – must fall under the rubric of Torah. One must struggle to align his reactions, ambitions and decisions with its standards. Otherwise, even diligent learning may fail to protect him. Torah that remains a mere subject – not a system of life – will not transform the person.
The following story is not new. Reading it again, however, in Rabbi Yechiel Spero’s latest book, “The Story Begins,” I developed a new insight. The Chafetz Chaim became the Torah giant that he was due to his pure toil, uncompromised effort, living in abject poverty, with nothing to look forward to tomorrow but more of the same. But that same life was filled with 24/7 Torah study with a break for tefillah. He would not have exchanged his “idyllic” life for all the comforts in the world.
Indeed, on some days, there was nothing to eat in the house, not even a piece of dried-out bread. Nonetheless, as his Rebbetzin attested, the physical deprivation had no negative impact on his learning. She had nothing to feed her saintly husband. She went to the baker and asked to collect the crumbs from the bottom of the tray. She would take these crumbs home and make knaidlach from them. She planned to transform those few knaidlach into the dinner that would sustain them.
Even the free crumbs could not go on forever. The baker obviously had a customer who was willing to pay for the crumbs and, as a result, he apologized that he could no longer give her the crumbs. The Rebbetzin walked home empty-handed. She had nothing for dinner. How could her husband continue his learning if he had nothing to eat? The Chafetz Chaim came home from the bais ha’medrash to see his wife’s dejection. He asked what was wrong – and she told him. He seemed unperturbed, calming her down by reassuring her that all would be good.
He went across the room, banged his hand firmly on the table and declared, “Yetzer hora! Gira b’einech, an arrow in your eyes! You will not succeed in taking me away from learning. Never! Whatever you try, whatever your evil wiles come up with, I will still continue learning!” He returned to his sefer. The next day, the baker said that whatever crumbs she could find, she could have for free. The yetzer hora had failed. He would do anything to cause the Chafetz Chaim to close his sefer and stop learning. He did not succeed.
The lesson is clear: Do not allow the yetzer hora to have a footing. The slightest incursion was an opportunity for him to destroy what the Chafetz Chaim had devoted himself to. I think we should derive a lesson from the sage’s reaction. He immediately knew that the yetzer hora was behind this. He was so tied up in learning, so thoroughly enveloped in Torah, that any incursion was an attack on his learning. This is the meaning of ameilus baTorah. This was his life.
